


Planetside

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [27]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting, all-dialog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew takes shore leave on a sunny, meadow-filled planet. Mal is not excited about nature, which contains allergens, bugs, dirt, and snakes, or maybe bears. It’s easy to get those two mixed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planetside

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            "Sure will be nice to get away from the ship for a little while, Captain…"

            "Yeah, a little sunshine, air that hasn't been recycled a thousand times. Porthos is really looking forward to it, aren't you, boy?"

            ::woof::

            "He's so loud when he barks. Why is he so loud?"

            "Look who's talkin', Mal."

            "What? I'm quiet. I'm _sooooo_ quiet."

            "Yeah, unless you _want_ something. Which is always."

            "Mal, are you looking forward to seeing the planet?"

            "No."

            "You see? You see what I gotta put up with?"

            "Okay, Travis? Great, let's pop the hatch!"

            "What's that smell?"

            "Fresh air. Fill your lungs with that. D—n good stuff."

            "Wow. I don't think you can _find_ air this pure on Earth anymore."

            "It doesn't seem very pure to me. Are you sure I've had all my shots?"

            "Yes, I'm sure, Dr. Phlox said it was fine."

            "I think there's pollen in the air. Pollen and spores and mold and viruses…"

            "There you go, Porthos! Go run around."

            "Go run around, Mal."

            "But—"

            "Go!"

           

           "Did you see the lunch Chef packed for us?"

            "Oh yeah, a real old-fashioned picnic lunch. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw… Looks delicious."

            "I brought a blanket. Maybe we could set up… under that tree?"

            "Yeah, that's a nice shady spot. Are you hungry?"

            "No, not yet, it's a little early for me.

            "Me too. Let's take a walk first."

            "My legs could definitely use some stretching after sitting around the Bridge all the time. At least in Engineering you get to run around a little bit."

            "True. But you wouldn't believe how dark it is in there—seein' all this sunshine makes me realize I work in a _cave_! No, seriously. How 'bout I install some of those sunlight-spectrum bulbs in there?"

            "Well, you'll have to check with Maintenance, I guess, I don't know if—"

            "Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggghhhhhhhhh! Trip! There's a bug chasing me!"

            "Wow, he certainly can run, can't he?"

            "It's flying! It's fat and buzzing! It's going to get me! Make it stop!"

            "Oh yeah, he loves to run. It's good for him to have some space. He'll be exhausted when it's time to go home, out like a light."

            "Trii-iip! Trip, it won't leave me alone!"

            "Just keep on runnin' there, Mal! It'll get tired of chasin' you soon! Aw, look how cute Porthos is."

            "Yeah, he loves the outdoors. I always feel guilty keeping him cooped up on the ship."

            "Well you're makin' up for it today, don't worry about it."

 

            "Really? Do you think they're dating, or it was just a one-time thing?"

            "Well, the look on his face when I caught him sneakin' out of her cabin wasn't too promising, if you know what I mean."

            "That's too bad, I just hope it doesn't cause any friction on the job… I just can't picture those two together."

            "I know! I mean, he's a terrific engineer and all, but he's kind of…"

            "A geek?"

            "Yes! And she is so…"

            "Hot?"

            "Yes! I mean, speaking from a purely aesthetic point of view, with no reflection on her considerable skills in Astrometrics."

            "Absolutely, I completely agree. I always thought he would fall for—what's her name? In the Xenobotany department?"

            "Oh yeah, yeah, she's _so_ more his type—"

            "Trii-iip! T'Pol's being mean to me!"

            "T'Pol, don't be mean to Mal."

            "Captain, I assure you, I was not—"

            "D'you know what she said? _She_ said—"

            "Mal, don't tattle. Go back and play."

            "But—"

            "Go on. Go play."

            "Captain, I must insist upon being allowed to explain—"

            "That's okay, T'Pol. Uh, you go back to… scanning, too."

            "Just stay on opposite sides of the meadow, you two! I don't want to hear any more fussin'!"

            "What do you think she said to him?"

            "I have no clue. Probably, 'Mal, don't shove that bug up your nose' or something else oppressive like that."

            "What about that redhead in Maintenance? I thought she had a boyfriend back on Earth, but then the other day I overheard Hoshi telling Travis that…"

 

            "Look, Jon, I know how much you love it, but I'm tellin' you, water polo is never gonna catch on above the college level."

            "Why not? It's got drama, action, statistics—everything the sporting audience loves!"

            "I just think there's a limited audience for a sport that consists entirely of hot guys in swimsuits splashing around in the water."

            "And why should that be?"

            Pause. "Well, I just said the audience was _limited_ , not non-existent. Hey, is there women's water polo? Maybe _that_ would catch on faster."

            "That's so enlightened, Trip."

            "I'm just sayin', from a commercial point of view, it might be an easier sell… 'Course you can't see the players very well anyway, they're underwater half the time—maybe _that's_ the big problem."

            "They have underwater cameras, you know!"

            "Yeah, but it kinda puts a barrier between the audience and the players, you know?"

            "Trip! I fell down!"

            "Well the _comm screen_ puts a barrier between the audience and the players—"

            "Trip! I hurt my knee!"

            "And they're wearin' those funny little water caps—"

            "Trip! I tore my pants!"

            "And the headgear in football isn't 'funny'? Those huge shoulder pads make them look ridiculous!"

            "Trip! I got dirty!"

            "It's an iconic silhouette!"

            "Oh, iconic…"

            "And there are practical, safety purposes as well."

            "The 'funny little water caps' serve a practical purpose too, you know."

            "Trii-iip! I fell down and hurt my knee and tore my pants and got dirty!"

            "Aw, look at that. Come here. Poor Mal. Have a cookie."

            "What sort of cookie is it?"

            "Do you want the cookie or not?"

            "Yes! Thank you."

            "Boy, you really skinned it, didn't you? Jon, hand me that medkit, would you? Thanks."

            "Didn't I un-skin it? There's not skin where there should be."

            "Which is called _skinning_."

            "What's it called when you put the skin back on?"

            "Um… I have no idea. Jon?"

            "I don't think they really, you know, _do_ that to anything."

            "Hey—grafting, maybe. Like with burns?"

            "Oh, good point."

            "What about my knee!"

            "Would you calm down, buddy…"

            "Ow! That stings!"

            "That's how you know it's workin'. There you go. All better."

            "My pants are still torn."

            "We'll get the quartermaster to fix you up when we get back to the ship."

            "And I'm still all dirty."

            "Well, no use cleanin' up now, you'll probably get dirty again. Now go play."

            "But I'm all dirty and my pants are torn! I look like some kind of… _vagabond_!"

            "Mal, I have no idea what the h—l you're talkin' about. Go play."

            "Vagabond? What the?"

            "I don't know. I don't even know where he hears these things. I believe you were sayin' something about the 'funny little water caps'?"

 

            "Wait, wait, wait, _who_ told you this?"

            "Lizzie! Lizzie told me."

            "This sounds insane."

            "No, it's totally serious!"

            "What's it called again?"

            "Toffle-cross!"

            "Toffle-cross?"

            "It's the hottest sport now! All the colleges are gettin' up teams. There's like five people on a team, and everyone's got a stick—it's like a lacrosse stick with a basket on one end, and a golf club on the other…"

            "Okay…"

            "And you can throw the ball, and there's also times when you're putting like golf, but sometimes people can tackle each other."

            "This sounds insane. You have to find a recording of this."

            "I know! I'm looking! Here, I brought some milk. Want any?"

            "No thanks, I'm good with this. But isn't it dangerous to tackle someone when they've got a stick?"

            "Well, there's lots of padding involved—"

            "Ooh! Milk! Can _I_ have some milk?"

            "No, Mal. Have some juice."

            "Please? Please please please please please?"

            "Here you go, boy, here's some water for you!"

            ::woof::

            "NO, Mal. Take your juice and go play. Everyone's got lots of padding, and you have to put the sticks down at certain times—"

            "Just one little sip. Just a lick around the rim."

            "Mal! You don't _have_ to have the juice if you don't want it!"

            "I want it, I want it!"

            "Then go drink it! So at certain times you have to put the sticks down…"

 

            "Wow, this looks really good."

            "Smells good, too. Mal! Mal! Where did he get to, anyway? Mal! Time for lunch!"

            "Lunch? Did you say lunch?"

            "J---s! Where'd you come from?"

            "Is it lunchtime? I'm _starving_! I'm so hungry!"

            "Well sit down and have some lunch, then. Look at the yummy picnic lunch Chef made for us."

            "It's all greasy."

            "It's fried chicken! It's supposed to be greasy!"

            "And what's this slimy stuff? It doesn't look very good."

            "It's coleslaw! It's delicious!"

            "I like mashed potatoes…"

            "Well, wonderful."

            "I don't like eating outside. There's bugs everywhere."

            "Well, just brush 'em aside if they get too close."

            "What if I eat one on accident?"

            "That'll be your protein instead of the chicken, I guess."

 

            "What's for dessert?"

            "Hmmm, it's… oh, look, pudding!"

            "Pudding? I _love_ pudding! Can I have that now, please?"

            "I want to say no… But I can't think of a good reason. What's a good reason he can't have dessert yet, Jon?"

            "Um… he hasn't eaten any vegetables yet?"

            "I had the mashed potatoes!"

            "Mashed potatoes aren't vegetables, they're… starch. Or something. Eat some coleslaw."

            "It's all nasty and slimy and cold! Is this milk in it? I can't have milk. You said I can't have milk!"

            "Porthos! Put that chicken leg down!"

            "Trii-iip! Porthos took my chicken leg!"

            "Um… here you go."

            "Now it's got dog slobber on it! Triiii-iiiip!"

            "Well you weren't gonna eat it anyway, were you? So quit whinin'."

            "I want some pudding."

            "Fine. Here. Take the pudding."

            "This isn't pudding."

            "Looks like pudding to me."

            "It's _white_. Pudding is _brown_."

            " _Chocolate_ pudding is brown. This is… hmmm, tapioca."

            "Tapioca? That's a funny word. What are these nubbly lumps?"

            "That's the, um, tapioca, I guess. Well, they're always _in_ tapioca pudding, anyway."

            "Ugh! They're horrible! I can't eat the nubbly lumps! Trii-iip!"

            "Would you quit your bawlin'? It's only pudding, for G-d's sake."

            "But I love pudding. And this isn't pudding. It's horrible nasty lumpy nubbly wobbly stuff!"

            "Well, fine. If you're done eating you can go back and play."

            "But I didn't get any lunch! Triii-iiip!"

            "You had a whole heap of mashed potatoes! You had three servings of mashed potatoes!"

            "But I didn't get anything else! Including dessert! Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"

            "Mal, shut up, okay? C'mere. Come on, calm down. There you go. That's a good boy. Now here, I think I've got some cookies left. And here's some more juice. Alright? Now you tell me what you've been up to so far. What have you been doing?"

            "This horrible bug chased me, and then I found a jumping frog thing up in a tree, and then I threw a stick away and Porthos kept bringing it back over and over and over again, and then T'Pol said something mean to me, and then I found this pond with all these little wiggly things in it but I didn't touch them because I don't want to be contaminated, and then I fell down and hurt my knee and tore my pants and got all dirty!"

            "I remember that part. Do you remember that part, Jon?"

            "Vividly. He looked like a vagabond."

            "Hush, you. Go on, Mal."

            "Then you fixed me all up and gave me a cookie. Except my pants are still torn and I'm even dirtier than before."

            "Well, you can take a shower when we get back to the ship."

            "Are we going back soon? I don't like it down here. It's too hot. There's too much sunshine. I'm going to burn up. Do you think this is a burn? I think I'm turning pink."

            "I don't think you're turning pink. Now what else did you do?"

            "Oh, I can't remember. Nothing special. Hoshi showed me some flowers she found. They're kind of pretty. But they smelled _bad_! Like the bathroom after you—"

            "What _else_ did you do?"

            "Travis said he's going to teach me a game. He's going to teach me a game after lunch. I don't know any games to play outdoors. It's called 'hide and seek.' Do you know this game?"

            "I certainly do. I think it'll be a great game for you."

 

            "—so then Great-Aunt Tabitha said, 'You better stick him back in the oven, honey, I don't think he's done yet'!"

            "Oh my G-d! She didn't!"

            "She absolutely did! I was mortified."

            "That's hilarious."

            "Thanks, I'm glad my teenage humiliation can provide you with amusement."

            "Oh, it does. It really does."

            "Didn't you tell me one time that your grandmother—"

            "Oh, we are _not_ goin' there—Hey, what's wrong with you, buddy? Thought you were playin' a game with Travis and the others."

            "I don't want to play anymore. I don't think they like me."

            "Aw, come here. What are you talkin' about? Of course they like you."

            "But nobody came to find me! I hid and hid and hid and no one found me."

            "Well maybe that's 'cause you're such a good hider, huh? Where were you hidin' anyway?"

            "I was just in that tree over there."

            " _That_ tree? That _huge_ tree? You weren't at the top, were you?"

            "Yes, of course. Nearly."

            "Well no wonder no one could find you, buddy. No one else can climb that d—n high."

            "No one else would even think to _look_ that d—n high."

            "You see? Now don't you tell me they don't like you. You know they like you, don't you?"

            "I don't know. I guess."

            "Come on. There we go. That's better, isn't it? Jon and I like you, too, you know."

            "I guess. D'you want to play with me?"

            "Uh, well…"

            "Oh, come on, let's play with him!"

            "Are you sure?"

            "Yeah, it'll be fun. I haven't played in years. Well, except with Porthos. Hey, maybe _all_ of us can play a game."

 

            "Mal! You're supposed to _catch_ the ball!"

            "I'm not touching that ball."

            "Mal!"

            "It's got dog slobber on it. Just like my chicken leg."

            "You weren't gonna eat the d—n chicken leg! So shut up about it!"

            "Come on, Mal. Just pick up the ball and throw it to Trip."

            "Lame! Lame throw! Come on, Mal, put some muscle into it! You throw like a girl!"

            "How do girls throw?"

            "Trip."

            "Oh, I'm just razzin' him."

            "Commander Tucker. Did you indicate your opinion that females have little to no skill in propelling spherical objects through the air with speed and accuracy?"

            "Uh, no, T'Pol, I was just teasin' Mal—"

            "Come on, T'Pol, Trip was just being stupid. Hardly unusual."

            "Gee, thanks, Jon."

            "I believe I should correct Commander Tucker's misconception via a demonstration."

            "I don't think that's really—Holy s—t!"

            "Trip! Are you okay?"

            "Are you tryin' to take my d—n head off?!"

            "Good catch, Mal!"

            "Yeah, d—n good catch, buddy. You okay there?"

            "Do I catch like a girl as well?"

            "I'm not gonna answer that. I have no comment on that subject."

            "I believe that is a wise choice, Commander."

 

            "—so then up Lizzie pops, outta the water, but _without_ the bikini top!"

            "Oh, G-d! What'd you do?"

            "Well, you know, I gotta be the big brother and protect her, right? I gotta leave the cute redhead and run out there with a towel before she's humiliated for life!"

            "I'm thinking Lizzie didn't take this quietly."

            "No! If she'd just kept her d—n mouth shut no one woulda noticed, probably, but she starts hollerin' and carryin' on until everyone on the beach knows about it!"

            "Wait, how old was she?"

            "Fifteen. Or maybe sixteen, I forget. She thinks it's hilarious, of course, just bein' this drama queen about it—I think maybe one of her friends dared her to do it or something."

            "The things one misses as an only child."

            "So it's all fine and dandy for _her_ , but _I'm_ the guy with the flasher for a little sister—no more cute redhead, I can tell you _that_."

            "But what did your—"

            "SNAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Snake snake snake snake snake snake snake snaaaaaaaaaaaake!!!!"

            "Mal, what the h—l?"

            "There's a snake! I saw it! It's horrible! It's over there!"

            "Mal, we're outdoors, I'm not surprised there's a snake. It didn't bite you, did it?"

            "No. Almost. It was _sooooo_ close. I could feel its breath on the back of my neck."

            "Wait—were you on the ground?"

            "No. The ground is _dirty_. It's practically _made_ of dirt."

            "It… _is_ … made of dirt, Mal. Um, was the snake in a tree or something?"

            "Snakes live in trees? Oh no! I was _in_ a tree!"

            "Settle down. What did the snake look like?"

            "It was big and brown and furry with claws and fangs!"

            "That's not a snake. That sounds like… a…"

           "BEAR!!"

            "BEAR!!!!!!!!!! Bear bear bear bear bear bear bear beeeeeeeaaaaaaarrrrrr!!!!!"

            "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

            "Captain, Commander, is there a problem?"

            "T'Pol, there's a bear! A bear! It's a bear! Bear alert! Over there! Head for the shuttlepod!"

            "D'you want me to fight the bear, Trip?"

            "No, I don't want you to fight the bear! Get in the pod!"

            "Captain."

            "What about the pudding?"

            "Let the bear have the pudding! You didn't like it anyway!"

            "Captain."

            "What about Porthos?"

            "Oh my G-d!! Where's Porthos?"

            "CAPTAIN."

            " _What_ , T'Pol?!"

            "My scanner detects no lifeform readings consistent with a large ursine mammal."

            "A what?"

            "A bear."

            "Are you sure?"

            "You may see the results for yourself."

            "Hmmm. Um, Mal, _where_ exactly was this 'bear'?"

            "You mean the snake?"

            "Whatever. Where was it?"

            "Over here."

            "Where?"

            "Just this way."

            "Careful!"

            "Quiet!"

            "I am detecting no large—"

            "Shh!"

            "—no large animals of any sort."

            "Where, Mal?"

            "Over here. Behind the bush."

            "Quiet…"

            "Shh…"

            "Look! There it is! It's getting away! Chase it, chase it!"

            "Get back here! Don't chase it! Mal, that's not a bear!"

            "It's a snake, isn't it?!"

            "It's not a snake, either! It's a-a _chipmunk_! A g-----n chipmunk!"

            "You _said_ it was 'big'!"

            "I meant on a relative scale. Compared to something very small."

            "You _said_ you could feel 'its breath on your neck'!"

            "That was a dramatic reinterpretation of the actual events."

            "Oh my G-d."

            "Shall I cancel the 'bear alert', Captain?"

            "Yes, please do. Thank you for your assistance, T'Pol."

            "And your discretion…"

            "I suppose not _all_ incidents from this… shore leave warrant inclusion in my log."

            "Right. Thanks."

            "I do have one observation to make, however. When confronted with the possibility of attack by a large ursine mammal, Commander Tucker, I believe the loud vocalization you produced was of a range and pitch typically associated with immature human females. If you'll excuse me, Captain, I'll return to my scanning."

            "Did she just—"

            "Yeah, I think she said you screamed like a girl."

            "She is so bitter about that throwing comment."

            "Well, you did. Kinda."

            "I did not!"

            "I think you did, Trip."

            "Well. At least I wasn't screaming 'bear alert' in my little high-pitched juvenile girl voice."

            "I don't think I really said 'bear alert.' I think T'Pol was just being sarcastic."

            "No, you _definitely_ said 'bear alert.' Screamed it, more like."

            "I don't recall that."

            "Well let's ask Mal, why don't we? Mal, do you remember the Captain here yelling 'bear alert' back there?"

            "Biased! He's a biased opinion!"

            "Hush. Mal?"

            "Yes."

            "I object! This witness has a conflict of interest!"

            "You yelled 'bear alert,' and that was right after Trip went _eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_!"

            "Well."

            "Perhaps not so biased after all."

            "Shall we call it a draw, then?"

            "Yes. Let's call it a draw and depart the field like gentlemen."

 

            "—and then the elephants come out, like _real_ elephants, dressed in armor, and it's all _real_ elephants, no special effects—"

            "But where did they even _get_ the elephants?"

            "I don't know, like an animal park or something. So there's the elephants, and then the dancers, and the dancers are all like contortionists and are walkin' on their hands, and holding swords with their feet, and then Dirk Malvoy comes out in this _loincloth_ —he's playing the king, right—and then—"

            "Dirk Malvoy? You didn't say _he_ was in it."

            "Oh yeah! Top billing! No expense spared!"

            "Trip, we _have_ to see this movie."

            "I know! That's what I said. It's the biggest freakin' spectacle on Earth right now. Did you know, they built six special theaters around the world with screens _thirty meters_ high, _just_ for this movie? It's _colossal_!"

            "How long 'til it gets to us?"

            "Well, here's the thing. I had an engineering class with a guy whose roommate's girlfriend's cousin works at a movie theater now, and _he_ says he's got this copy of it but the only problem is, and it's really a pretty small one overall, it's just _slightly_ illegal for him to send it off-world yet—"

            "Trip."

            "—but I think we're _special_ , don't you? I mean, first warp five starship in deep space? Why should we always get left behind when the good movies are bein' released? Huh, Captain?"

            "Trip."

            "Elephants! Drag racing! Contortionists! Pirates! Deep sea diving! Dirk Malvoy! This movie's got _everything_ , Captain! Come on…"

            "Pirates?"

            "Oh, yeah, and cowboys, too. How could I forget the cowboys?"

            "Are you making this up? Because it _really_ sounds like you're making this up."

            "And water polo!"

            "You are such a liar, Commander Tucker."

            "No, no, it's all totally true. Except for the water polo."

            "Yeah."

            "And Dirk Malvoy."

            "Awwwwwww."

            "I believe all the equipment and supplies have been loaded, Captain."

            "Alright. Let's round up the troops."

            "This was a great idea, Captain. Thanks for lettin' us have a little R&R."

            "Well, I enjoyed it, too, Trip. It's nice to get a little fresh air and sunshine every now and then."

            "And speakin' of fresh air and sunshine… There you are! Your wish has been granted, Mal."

            "Huh?"

            "It's time to go home!"

            "Time to go home? Already?"

            "G-d, you're filthy! What have you been doing?"

            "I was watching the wiggly things in the pond. They're _ever_ so fascinating, Trip. They've got a very complex social structure, you know. Every little wiggly thing has its own special job to do, yet they're all coordinated somehow in this rather beautiful little web of movement. I wanted to go back and poke a stick at them to see what happened."

            "Uh, sorry, Mal, no time for that. Thank G-d."

            "What was that?"

            "I said, it's time to go home now. You _wanted_ to go home before. Don't you want to go home? Where you can take a nice shower, and get something to eat?"

            "I _am_ rather hungry…"

            "That's right. Only mashed potatoes and cookies for lunch, remember?"

            "Here, Porthos. That's a good boy! Yes, you had fun outdoors, didn't you?"

            "Doesn't he know Porthos isn't going to talk back?"

            "Hush!"

            "He smells! Porthos smells! He smells icky! I don't want to sit by Porthos!"

            "Would you shut up! You don't smell so good yourself. You're the one who's been wallowing in the mud by the stream."

            "That was for an educational purpose!"

            "Sit down and put your belt on."

           

           "Trii-iip, I'm hungry."

            "Yes, I know."

            "I'm _starving_."

            "Yes, I know."

            "When are we going to be home?"

            "As soon as Travis flies us there."

            "Are we close yet?"

            "Do we look close?!"

            "Trip."

            "Sorry, Captain."

            "Travis, turn the pod a bit so we can see the surface of the planet. Look, Mal. That's the planet we were just on. Isn't that neat?"

            "It looks so…"

            "Beautiful?"

            "Amazing?"

            "Incredible?"

            "Alien. It looks like a place with nasty pathogens and pollen our immune systems aren't equipped for."

            "I'm so glad I encouraged him to study a little biology. It's really done wonders for his conversational skills."

            "Are we going to Decon? I want to go to Decon. I feel contaminated. I want to be decontaminated. I want to use the squishy gel stuff. Are we going to use the squishy gel stuff?"

            "Tucker to Sickbay."

            " _Phlox here, Commander. Did you encounter a problem on the surface?_ "

            "I think Mal mighta picked up some kind of virulent… virus… spore thing on the planet. Can you lock him in Decon for three or four hours?"

            ::gasp::

            "With Porthos?"

            "No, he smells! I don't want to be in Decon with Porthos!"

            "Well, shut up then."

            "Trip, quit playing with the comm. Sorry, Doctor."

            " _No difficulty, Captain. I am quite happy to discuss any, ah, 'virulent virus spore things' with Mal or Commander Tucker, should they require_ —"

            "Ha ha, you got in trouble."

            "Shut up."

            "Getting a little grouchy there, Trip. I think _someone_ had too much fresh air and sunshine today."

            "Is that someone Trip? _Is that someone Trip?!_ "

            "Leave me alone. I don't feel so great."

            "You look a little pink, Commander. Didn't you put on the sunscreen Phlox gave us?"

            "Oh. D—n."

            "Trip."

            "Well, I got so busy greasin' up Mal, I forgot all about it!"

            "You didn't have sunscreen! Are you going to die?! I don't want you to _die_ , Trip! I love you!"

            "No, I'm not gonna die, and get off me! I'm kinda sore…"

            "Oh, poor Trip. Poor, poor Trip. I _knew_ there was too much sunshine down there. Didn't I say that? Well don't worry, I'm going to take _such_ good care of you…"

            "Oh G-d."

            "Mal, I think I will leave him in your capable hands, then."

            "Thank you, Captain. I won't let him go. Even if he tries to wiggle free like a little wiggly thing."

            "Oh G-d!"


End file.
